


Say It

by shylemon



Category: calvin vail - Fandom
Genre: Calvin is gay, Daddy Kink, Hand Jobs, I hate myself, I regret this, M/M, Smut, but he wont admit it, why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 14:26:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8804401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shylemon/pseuds/shylemon
Summary: I decided the world needed more badly written Leafycynical smut. You're welcome.





	

It all starts when Niall decides it’s a good idea to walk around the apartment shirtless. To be fair, it’s an extremely hot day and maybe he just needs to cool down, but Calvin definitely does _not_ need to see the pale smoothness of Niall’s back blocking his view of the television. “Do you mind?” He grumbles at his blonde roommate, and he can almost feel how Niall’s eyes roll back in his head before he turns around.

“You seriously need to get out of the house. Being in here all day is turning you into a little bitch.”

“I know, shut up.” Calvin glares in Niall’s general direction. Usually he’s fine with having company but right now he just wants to be left alone to sulk. And maybe jerk off. It’s an awkward situation, but having a roommate in an apartment with annoyingly thin walls makes for very little privacy and a shit ton of unneeded sexual tension. The heat in particular seems to be making it worse, and for the past couple of days he’s been distant and a bit of an asshole. He watches out of the corner of his eye as Niall walks over to sit down next to him, jumping a bit when the other boy’s thigh brushes against his. He’s not sure if the temperature is making him crazy or what, but his friend’s exposed skin looks nice and soft and infuriatingly good right now and _what the hell is wrong with him._

“Seriously dude, are you okay? You look tense.” Niall’s voice is full of innocent concern and Calvin presses a hand to his forehead, willing the ache in his lower abdomen to go away.

“Yeah, just really need to get laid.” He forces a half laugh, training his eyes on the stupid documentary he’s been trying to watch for the past half hour.

“Oh,” Niall coughs awkwardly at the admission. “Do you want to…go out tonight or something?”

“You know I can’t,” Calvin complains, turning to look at the boy beside him and oh shit, that was a mistake. Niall looks even fucking better up close and Calvin’s brain is more confused than ever. “I have to…um…make a new video…” he mumbles absently, his eyes lingering on the moisture forming in Niall’s collarbone. His roommate has taken it upon himself to get in shape, and Calvin has to admit that the faint outline of abs and newly toned arms look more than aesthetically pleasing.  

“Come on, it’s just one night. Plus you look good. Wouldn’t take long a lot to get some guy to fuck you.” Niall says it casually, as if he were talking about the weather, and Calvin stares for a moment as the words replay in his mind: _You look good…_

“I— _what?_ ”

“I’m just saying you’re good looking. Any guy would be lucky to have you.” Taking in Calvin’s open-mouthed silence he starts to catch on. “Wait…you aren’t gay?” Calvin almost laughs.

“What the fuck, Niall? I know I joke about it all the time but no, I’m not fucking gay.” 

“Could’ve fooled me,” Niall muttered, and Calvin was about to respond harshly when he remembered something worrisome Niall had said earlier.

“Niall…how come you think I’d be the bottom?”

“Huh?”

“The bottom. The person being…fucked.” Calvin feels his face heat up at the words, trying to force the images that came along with them out of his mind.

“Obvious. You’re small, cute, and um…shit, I don’t know.” Niall ran a hand through his hair, effectively making his “toned” arms look even better and causing Calvin’s face to turn a deeper shade of pink. “You just look the part?”

“Well I’m not.” Calvin insisted, shifting to put a bit more space between them. “A bottom, I mean.”

“Whatever you say, babe.” Niall chuckles, not bothering to conceal his skepticism. Calvin shoots him a look and spends the next hour trying to ignore how Niall’s fingers keep brushing his thigh, making him shiver in a way he definitely shouldn’t be. Because he’s not gay and certainly not a bottom. He’s _not._

 ...

11 o’clock starts the longest night of Calvin’s life. At this point it’s been nearly four days since he’s gotten off and he feels on edge, unable to focus on editing or anything else for that matter. His fingers twitch towards the hem of his sweatpants more than once but he stops himself, knowing that his annoying inability to be quiet will cause Niall will hear him. _Niall._ “Fuck,” he mutters, hips shifting on the bed as he remembers how good his roommate looked today, how nice it would be if he would just— _no._ Calvin stops the train of thought before it starts, hating himself as his dick starts to throb in his pants. _Just go to sleep,_ he orders himself, biting his lip as another crystal-clear image of Niall comes, unbidden, into his mind.

He’s barely drifted off when the covers are suddenly ripped away and there’s a presence above him, pinning him down by his arms. His first reaction is pure panic, struggling blindly against the person holding him, but then he sees the sculpted face and signature hairstyle and realizes it’s just Niall. “Niall, what the hell?” He half-whispers, still trying futilely to get free. His efforts only cause his crotch to bump against his roommate’s leg and he bites his lip as heat flares below his belly button. “Niall seriously, I’m trying to sleep.”

“What if I could prove that you’re a bottom?” And Calvin stops moving because Niall’s voice is different now, low and rough in a way that Calvin’s never heard before.

"W-what?" Niall rolls his eyes and Calvin tries not to dwell on the fact that he's still shirtless. And also hot.

"I can prove you're a bottom, you idiot."

“How the fuck are you going to do that?” Calvin hears his own voice shaking but, mercifully, Niall doesn’t comment on it.

Instead he looks off to the side for a moment, his face screwed up as he ponders his next move. “I know,” he says suddenly, a look on his face that Calvin has come to associate with pure evil. “If I can get you to say ‘I’m yours, daddy,’ _unironically_ by the end of the week then you have to admit you’re a submissive.” Calvin grimaced at the choice of words.

“Daddy? Seriously? You really think you can get me to say—” He breaks off when Niall suddenly leans down and nuzzles the side of his neck, warm breath skating over the sensitive skin. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Convincing you,” Niall murmurs, and suddenly Calvin can’t think of anything else to say because Niall’s lips are on his neck, just below his jaw, and _fuck_ they’re softer than he anticipated.

“Gonna say it yet?” Niall asks, and Calvin shudders because, for a moment, Niall’s tongue was on his skin and he’s enjoying this way more than he wants to admit. “No? Guess I’m going to have to try harder then.” Calvin is about to ask what the hell _that_ means when suddenly Niall’s lips brush over his and his mind goes blank. It’s innocent at first, almost tentative—Niall pauses between each brief kiss, pulling back a bit to see Calvin’s reaction. Calvin forces himself to keep still but his frustration must show on his face because when Niall leans back in again the kiss is deep and wet, every agonizingly slow motion threatening to pull sounds from Calvin’s throat that he didn’t even know he was capable of making.

“ _Niall,_ ” Calvin gasps, and he meant for it to sound reprimanding but it comes out like a moan. Niall hums in response, nipping gently at Calvin’s lower lip, and the older boy has to clench his fists to contain a whimper. _Push him off,_ Calvin thinks to himself, trying to ignore the aching feeling he gets every time Niall’s mouth moves. _Push him off, push him off, push him…_ and maybe he would except it’s been _so fucking long_ since he’s been kissed like this, in fact he doesn’t know if he’s ever been kissed like this, and suddenly he’s struggling again, but this time it’s because he wants to touch Niall and pull his hair and make him kiss faster and harder and—

Calvin barely contains a groan of frustration when Niall pulls away, want pooling in his stomach quickly enough to remind him he hasn’t gotten off in nearly a week. He tries to control his facial expression anyways, twisting it into what he hopes is disgust.

“You like that?” Niall breathes, smirking above him, and Calvin feels saliva gathering beneath his tongue as he watches the other’s lips move.

“N-no. Let me go?” It comes out weak, like a question.

“Suit yourself,” Niall says, and suddenly Calvin is alone in the room with a red face and uncomfortably tight pants. _What the fuck._

 ...

The next time it happens Calvin’s been dreaming about it for days, subconscious mind filled with strawberry blonde hair and hands that feel inexplicably good on his skin. He tells himself the dreams aren’t his fault, because Niall’s been teasing him. He’ll turn around and the other boy will be behind him, ready to trail fingers up his thigh, down his cheek in a way that shouldn’t make Calvin shiver imagining the other places those fingers could be. But it does, and he’s left pretending not to be completely wrecked while Niall smirks at him.

Now he’s smirking again, having pinned Calvin to the couch with an ease that should have embarrassed the older boy but right now he’s too busy trying not to moan in relief.

“Still think you’re not a submissive?” When Calvin doesn’t answer Niall leans down and grazes his lips against the other boy’s ear, relishing in the choked sound of pleasure that results from it. “All you have to do is admit it,” he whispers, and Calvin hates himself because even though he’s already panting, his hips moving against the other’s body without his consent, he can’t say it. Niall shakes his head as he moves away, chuckling at Calvin’s feeble attempts to pull him back in. He has to physically swallow the “please” caught in his throat as he watches the younger boy walk out of the room.

 ...

On the day he finally gives in he's already been subjected to two weeks of torture. Niall is shirtless almost all the time now, sometimes walking around in nothing but boxers and pretending not to notice Calvin practically drooling onto his t-shirt. He also never leaves the house, so when he announces one morning that they've run out of milk and he has to go to the store to get some Calvin sees it as an opportunity to get rid of his near constant boner. As soon as he hears the door slam he's got his sweatpants halfway down his legs, moaning in relief as he grabs himself through his boxers. Usually he'd go fast, finishing quickly in case his roommate comes back early, but today he feels like taking his time. It doesn't take long to work himself up, quiet whimpers leaving him as he jerks into the slight pressure of his hand. He pulls off his boxers with shaky fingers, barely noticing the stain of precum in his desperation. He flushes as Niall crosses his mind, gasping a bit at the thought of the other boy's hands replacing his own. His cock is throbbing at this point, the ache in his lower abdomen making him whine as he runs his fingers over the area, so close to where he wants them most. By the time he finally touches himself he's gone, the distant sound of a door opening barely registering through the haze.

Niall waits a moment before announcing his presence, biting into his lip as he takes in the sight in front of him. Calvin is sprawled out on the bed, free hand gripping the sheets tightly while the other moves on his cock. He’s teasing himself, fingers stroking the skin too slowly, his back arching slightly at the barely-there feeling of pleasure. Niall lets him build himself up a bit, lets him move into his hand and moan shamelessly into the pillow as sweat sticks his emo haircut to his forehead, and then:

“Need help?” Calvin gasps when he hears Niall’s voice, instantly struggling to cover himself as his face takes on the red hue Niall is far too familiar with.

“Um…I—uh…” Calvin stutters, trying to ignore how the ache between his legs intensifies with his roommate’s presence. Niall approaches him slowly, long enough for Calvin to admire the way his t-shirt is riding up a bit, showing off a strip of pale skin. “I-I thought you were leaving to buy milk?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave soon,” Niall promises, reaching out to stroke Calvin’s lower lip with his thumb. “I just want to ask you something first.” Calvin’s mouth opens a bit and Niall’s tempted to slide his thumb inside, make him suck on it. “Were you thinking about me?” He asks, and after a moment Calvin nods shakily, inhaling as Niall leans closer to his ear. “What were you thinking about?”

“Niall—”

“I know you want me to touch you,” Niall murmurs, smirking as he moves his hand to the soft inside of Calvin’s knee. “I’d make it so good for you, Calvin. I’d have you cumming in minutes, all over yourself.” The older boy bites back a moan at the suggestion, hips shifting on the bed as Niall’s hand moves to his inner thigh. “Or maybe you’d prefer that I suck you, nice and slow until you’re begging for it.” Calvin’s mind floods with pleasant images and he whimpers, reaching out to grip the other’s shirt.

“Yes Niall, _please._ ”

“Say it.”

“I—I’m yours.” The required phrase comes out quickly but Calvin’s surprised at how much he means them. He almost forgets the missing word until Niall raises an eyebrow, his grip on Calvin’s thigh loosening. “…daddy,” he adds, and it’s barely a whisper but Niall must have heard it because suddenly he’s on his back again and Niall’s lips are on his.

“Fucking….finally,” Niall groans between  kisses, his hands sliding up Calvin’s shirt, short fingernails biting into the skin. “Took you long enough, you lazy bastard.” Calvin can do nothing but pant into the other boy’s mouth, a small sound escaping him when Niall’s tongue slips past his lips. The kiss is perfect; rough and overwhelming and Calvin feels embarrassingly close even though Niall hasn’t even touched him yet. “Have I ever told you how hot you are?” Niall breathes as he pulls away, reaching down to brush his fingers along the outline of Calvin’s clothed erection. He watches as the older boy arches into his touch, face flushing in embarrassment at his own desperation. “Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, waiting for Calvin’s dark eyes to meet his.

“Just…touch me, _please_.” Calvin groans and Niall doesn’t waste any time, shoving the interfering fabric aside. The sound Calvin makes when Niall grabs his dick is fucking gorgeous, and within a few seconds he’s already on the verge of coming undone, biting into the sleeve of his hoodie while his free hand grasps at the sheets. Niall goes slowly, forcing back a moan at how sensitive Calvin is, his thighs shaking as he tries not to cum.

“Say my name,” He orders, enjoying the way the other’s blush deepens.

“Niall…” Calvin’s voice dwindles a bit, and Niall’s hand slows enough to make him whimper.

“Come on, Calvin. You can do better than that.” Niall’s panting now, his eyes dark as he watches the boy underneath him squirm with each slow stroke of his hand. On a whim he rubs the sensitive head gently with his thumb, precum slipping under his fingers, and Calvin whines,

“Daddy, _fuck._ ”

“Good boy,” Niall groans, his voice rough as he leans down to suck gently at Calvin’s neck. He can tell the other boy is close from the way he’s moving shamelessly into the hand around him, his head tipped back and soft “ah’s” spilling from his reddened mouth. “Come on,” Niall whispers, biting down on a spot below Calvin’s jawline. The sensation proves to be too much for Calvin and he blindly grasps at Niall’s shirt as he cums, biting his lip to hide his moans. Niall’s having none of it though, and his hand continues to move until Calvin’s back is arching, a stream of curse words and whimpers leaving his half open mouth. He’s shaking by the time Niall finally lets go, his face flushed and eyes slightly damp from the overstimulation.

“You okay?” Niall asks, a hint of amusement lacing his voice. Calvin hums in response, feeling pleasantly dizzy. Niall collapses next to him, curling an arm around the other’s small waist. “How do you feel about round two?”

**Author's Note:**

> I never know how to fucking end these things, help


End file.
